Pathic

By Larry Jordan

The universe is home to many creatures brave and clever, weak and greedy, assassin and hero. Sometimes it's not so easy to tell them apart...

 

Colonel Reef Kane was a Pathic, a remnant of a race long forgotten. Time had allowed him to slip away unnoticed, hidden behind the anonymity of a legend that had become

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pathic Press
• Release date: Nov 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781088045688

Larry Jordan

Larry Jordan was born in the farming community of Hillsboro, Oregon. After college, he used his degrees in horticulture science and agricultural business from Linn Benton Community College in the field of plant propagation, serving the wholesale nursery industry. In recent years, he turned his passion for reading science fiction-especially the classic space operas of the 1950s and 60s and present-day sci-fi adventures-into a disciplined writing practice.Pathic is his first novel in a trilogy that travels through outer space and human time to tell the epic story of the Pathics and the Dragon Lords. When not reading or writing, Larry Jordan can be found watching Star Wars movies, bowling, or imagining new universes and what lies beyond what humans can see...

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PATHIC

Copyright © 2022 by Larry Jordan

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews.

Published by Pathic Press

Trade Paperback ISBN 978-1-0880-4657-9

Ebook ISBN 978-1-0880-4568-8

This is a work of fiction.

Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

larryjordanatpathic.com

1

Night on Elissa was beautiful. The mellow yellow of her moons mixed with the scarlet and red rose glow of her atmosphere and cast shadows across a small garden valley hidden within a black and red forest. At the far end of the valley, the moon light exposed a curvaceous ship, a Zephyr-J cruiser nestled against the tree line. Four white lights approached just over the tops of the trees, from the east. It was a Raven fighter, and its bright orange dual axe wings loomed as it spun about over the Zephyr-J to find a spot to set down. A curtain of a light appeared as the side ramp lowered. In the hatch door stood Addison in a coral green pantsuit that showed off her delicate frame, which was accentuated by her short dark hair. Hovering behind Addison was her son of thirteen Why Ginn. His hair was shaggy brown, flowing about his eyes.Young Why Ginn laughed joyously, and broke into an enthusiastic giggling, stumbling run to his father, who stood by the Raven’s starboard wing tip.

The boy’s father had coal-dark hair, and wore green pants and a work shirt over a rugged frame. He was Ian Ginn. Why Ginn fell face-first at his father’s feet before he jumped, arms open with a smile from ear to ear, into his arms.

Son, you have gotten too big for this, or I am weakening from old age, Ian said.

Ian approached Addison, still carrying his son, and they all smiled at the happy reunion. Why Ginn jumped out of his arms and ran back up into the Zephyr-J cruiser.

Addison said, He’s been that way all day, in and out like a pet. Were you successful? Why do I even ask when I really don’t need or want to know?

Ian pulled her tight into his chest and arms, smothering her. No, it was a bust. It was bad info. I think it would best if we left Elissa.

She asked, What happened? Are you sure about this? Where would we go?

His finger caressed her cheek, and he stopped an opal tear. Ian put both of his hands to her cheeks, and she smiled back at him. We will leave when we are ready, he said. To a planet called Lato Gailos. It is a short trip from here. They embraced in a hug and kiss.

She replied, Then we will go, my Eidolon, to this Lato Gailos.

A dozen years later, on the world of Pallas, it was approaching dusk. The planet’s orangey half-moon loomed over the rustic canal city of Kyrou. The half-moon reflection sparkled in the rippling waters of the canals. The city was made up of many island villages crisscrossed with connecting canals and bridgeways. At a stretch of one brick bridgeway stood a male figure in a long coat and hood. The hooded figure started walking the twenty steps or so down to a pathway that followed along the bridgeway.

This figure moved to a juncture where the canal turned right into a tunnel. Inside, it was pitch dark, other than four torch lights that illuminated an area near the middle of the tunnel. He entered. Just steps from the torches there was a splash as he tossed his coat into the water. In the torchlight, for a moment, it was possible to see a humanoid male, near six feet in height with curly reddish black hair, wearing a telltale pair of yellow striped pants. It was Ian Ginn. He pulled a pulse weapon from a holster with a leathery hiss. He edged his way along to a position where a torch showed him the outline of another passageway. He peered from the corner of its opening. He saw and heard the strike of matches and the drag of smoke from a cigar.

Good. There are only two of you.

If you could see it; you might describe it this way: a clear bubble grew and expanded outward from the figure. It was his mind-space, his Pathic energy, which encompassed the two men imbibing their cigars or even the city if needed. His mind-space influenced them with a suggestion to turn and walk in his direction. The two guards came halfway to him. Then they both succumbed to a pair of blue flashes of pulse energy. Ian passed through the torchlight and stepped over their bodies, then he found a stairwell that led upward into a dead end into a brick wall of a house. This must be a hidden entrance.

He faced the wall. His mind-space felt the emotions of a person on the other side. There is another guard on the left there. His suggestion to him was: Open the door, please, and when you do, you will neither see nor hear a thing.

The guard heard the suggestion twice in his mind. He jerked his head about, questioning himself for a second. Ian suggested again. Open the door. Then, as suggested, the guard turned, his hand slid the door open, and he saw nothing, not even the figure that passed by his side.

Ian stepped past the guard. His Pathic mind spoke to him. You haven’t seen me nor heard anything. It’s only the wind or an animal that has disturbed you. Go about your station. The guard for an instant peered through the open doorway, then with a blank expression, he slid the door shut. Ian moved off through an open patio garden to a stairway to the compound. Halfway up, he looked once more at the guard, back at his station as if nothing out of ordinary had happened.

The stairway led Ian to a balcony from where a row of triangle windows looked out to the garden. At his far right was a round door. From his back pocket he took a star shaped device, which he placed near the center of the door. He grabbed hold of the object with both hands and forced the door to open to the left. He stepped through the door into a short hallway. In his right hand he held his pike, a platinum cylinder about ten inches long. The hallway ran to the right, where a flight of stairs ran down. He went down ten steps to another hallway, then turned again to his left where he found an open basement door. At the edge of the door, with his pike at ready, he stepped inside.

There were stacks of sealed crates on Ian’s left. On his right were glass cabinets filled with jewels and relics from throughout the region. He looked at the labels on the crates, then studied the cabinets. Nothing. A great wealth, but not the object that was supposed to be here. He moved toward the back wall, where he saw a waist-high square pedestal. Standing in front of it, he wiped his right hand across the top. As he did so, he was suddenly struck by an emotional time stain. His Pathic mind-space allowed him to see past and present tragedies, deception, moments of aggression, and moments filled with death that had been stained long ago on this place. This time stain spilled out into a vision of the past as if he were actually there, standing like a hidden witness. He saw two men standing near the pedestal where the walls came together in the corner.

One he knew. He was tall with broad shoulders, and his head was bald but for a foot-long black ponytail. His name was Jarod. The other was even taller, six-two or six-four. He had white crystalline eyes, closely shaved hair, and a red chin beard. A name came to mind. What was it? Dione? No, it’s something . . . Dione. He watched the one he thought might be Dione as he placed a hand on each of the walls that came together to a secret vault in the corner. The walls separated and a three-tiered cabinet slid out. Jarod and Dione began a conversation that he heard as if he were next to them.

Jarod asked, So, this is where you hide the good stuff. A clever place for a vault. His attention was drawn to the shimmer of two crystals. They were deep blue with pink strands. What are those? he asked.

Next, Dione took a jeweled necklace with a centerpiece of the same deep blue crystal from his pocket and placed it into the vault.

Jarod commented, If the Eidolon saw that necklace, even this vault couldn’t stop him.

Dione replied, The Ghost! You run in fear of a thief. If this Eidolon stays out of my way, you might have a chance to pit your minds against one another. And Jarod, you’d best forget about this vault.

Ian’s hand slipped off the pedestal and the vision faded back to where he was facing into the corner. He realized what had just happened. How long ago did those events occur? How old is the time stain? Days, months, or years? If I am right about what I just saw, those were living crystals. He moved into the corner and place in hand, just as Dione done, and the vault opened outward. The necklace was there, except it was missing its center crystal. The other two crystals were still in their spots. He picked up one of the two. Instead of being deep blue, they were discolored white with black strands. With what I know of you, and what I saw in the time stain the change in color indicates that the living life in you has faded. With the one in his open palm, he paused in a thought, then squeezed it; it shattered into bits of dust. Where did they stumble across living crystals? I know Jarod is nothing more than a gangster. I have heard your name, Dione, and I have no knowledge of you.

Ian closed the vault and turned about. He made his way back toward the doorway, giving the basement collection of stolen goods a final once-over. It wasn’t a complete waste, even if what I was after wasn’t here.

In the next second Ian was surprised by a kick from the door and the boot that knocked him flying backward into the crates. His face pushed into the floor and crates crumbled inward toward him. In the doorway was a muscular humanoid male, a Tau, dressed in a red garb. His face was yellow-green and he had two pairs of unforgettable red-horned ears. His breath was fast and irregular. The Tau’s reddish marble eyes fixed on him. The Tau snorted and squeezed his pike, which was ten inches in length with red and black ends. In his left hand and he triggered the pike. It telescoped out from both ends into two razor-sharp, polycarbonate blades. The blades shimmered in a disconcerting wave while the Tau stomped to where the man lay among the crates. The Eidolon! So helpless you are, the great thief at his best walked into our trap.

The Tau thrashed with his pike blade, slicing at the tumbled crates, to find his helpless Eidolon. In a snort of rage, he discovered the Eidolon wasn’t there. He cried out, shaking his head in rage, Eidolon, Eidolon! He wheeled right in anger with his pike, and it lanced into the glass cabinets. In the eruption of flying glass, Ian—the Eidolon—appeared behind the Tau with his own pike, slicing into the Tau’s right leg. The Tau fell backward, twisting directly into another upward pike blade, a slicing swing that impaled his neck. He fell forward, smashing into another glass cabinet, and another cabinet toppled over onto him.

Ha! The Tau at his best. With a pike no less. This was planned? I believe I will need a different informant. In the hallway, Ian’s Pathic mind-space pushed outward. There was nothing that triggered a sense of danger. He went up the steps back to the balcony. He continued down to the ground level, where he went right around the compound gardens to another bridgeway. It led him to a busy street of cafés, where he found a spot in the corner where he could wait and watch. In his chair he concentrated, just like he had with the Tau when his mind-space had convinced it he wasn’t there. It was the Pathic part of the seen yet unseen, an energy emanating from his mind-space, a form of camouflage that blocked the naked eye and mind. From his chair, in a block radius, all that passed into the influence of the seen yet unseen saw him as a wrinkled, elderly, dark haired woman of Kyrou.

Time to wait and watch. I’ll set my own trap myself. A Tau, with the skills to use a pike? Who have I caught the attention of? He spent fifteen minutes smelling the aromas of many Kyrou foods and watching young girls and boys dance around, mothers enjoining a cafe, with the smile from a Carra brown melting on their lips His camouflage kept him concealed, and with his mind-space he searched the Kyrous that walked about. He could sense the emotions of deception, intent or outward nervousness of any being passing by. Such emotions allowed him to invade their thoughts and even enter their minds. He hoped to sense the emotions of anyone employed by Jarod, waiting to report that his plan succeeded. Perhaps one could lead him to the master of that Tau.

Time’s up. I am at my limit to stay here in the seen yet unseen. Are there more of you, Mister Tau, lurking about? You are hunting me. That’s what you do. It would be doubtful that you would confide in me about who expected me. He stood up and walked in the direction of an adjacent street. It was about four blocks of homes, with few Kyrou citizens about. He approached a bridgeway off to his right where all around it seemed still. He felt the contempt wash over his mind-space. A Tau is close. He took out his pike. When he reached the base of the bridgeway, he saw another Tau standing atop the middle of the bridgeway, dressed in black with the same yellow-green face and ears.

The thief, the Eidolon, I see you have survived! Then my brother must be dead? he asked. He was the fool. I am not.

You are mistaken if you believe I am this Eidolon. Was that right? he asked. Then he triggered his four-foot pike blades.

The Tau followed suit and stated, You’re a pike user, I see. It will not help you, because I will know your every move.

Is that so? Can you see me now? Ian vanished into the seen yet unseen.

The Tau lost sight of him and shouted to him as he made a saucer spin move. You are one of those Pathics. You can’t fool me. In his next breath he was severed by two pulse pistol shots, mid-chest. The Tau dropped to his knees in time for a one-handed back swing that left him headless. Sorry about that, old boy. I happen to have a pulse pistol. How did you not know that? You were a Tau with limited Pathic abilities and pike skills. This doesn’t make sense.

Ian tossed the Tau’s head over the stone railing into the canal, followed by his body. His foot bumped into the Tau’s pike, and it rolled up against the railing. He picked it up, and it brought to mind one thing: Webo Azhi. Now this makes a little more sense. With a back underhand, he threw the pike into the canal. He watched it sink for a second, then he felt the emotional shock, a cry of fear at the sight of the Tau from the Kyrous at the bridgeway’s edge. He looked into their eyes and walked away over the bridge.

Back at his Raven fighter, Ian engaged its four engines, which flamed yellow while it rose up toward space. The ship had three ten-foot needle frames in front that connected from two axe wings, with four engine housings and a central two-seat cockpit. Ian crossed into the dark of space. Not far away a dark cruiser waited silently. As Ian emerged, her thrusters lit up the darkness in pursuit. The Raven went into a hyper cloud, followed by this cruiser entering into its own cloud.

Ian had kicked off his boots and relaxed in the Raven’s pilot seat, and his stained socks pressed up against the cockpit’s window. The yellowish hyper cloud that swirled around the twin curved axe wings of his Raven fighter wasn’t much different in color from his socks. The Raven ran toward Elissa at half-light in the depth of a hyper cloud. Ian lay back, twisting sideways in his seat, crammed against the window of his tiny two-seater cockpit. He drifted into slumber and a dream of his past.

He saw himself at the side of a lake, on a catwalk where the waves were crashing over, nearly soaking him. On the observation station was Fosse Beau and another known by the name Otho-Than. Fosse hovered inches off the ground in his chair. His midsection bulged over the chair’s arm rest. His face was covered in hair, and he had an unmistakable irregular bald spot on top of his head. Otho, on the other hand, was a Midge-tan, small in stature with hair in red pigtails that covered his head to his shoulders, except for his narrow face and chin.

Ian walked to them. Fosse swung about in his chair and said, Hello, my friend.

I am here because you summoned me, Ian replied.

It was only a request, Ian. I warned you. I have kept quiet of this affair between you and Addison. But a child, Ian, that is another thing entirely. Ian, you are an Evian. Addison is A Dora. You knew that if there was to be a child, that child would be of two, and would be a Pathic.

Ian replied, Who is to say my child will be born a Pathic? Let alone be like the others of past that were born of two, which became the ruthless enemy we have come to know?

Nevertheless, Ian, we all have chosen to abide by the decision of the forefathers to ban the joining between the Evian and A Dora. For just that reason did we long battle the birth of the Pathics, never knowing when one would appear or become another treacherous Dragon Lord. We fought for our lives to control our world. It gave us few choices. It was a decision of all, for the good of all.

Ian interrupted him, his voice quivering with anger. Pathics! How little do I care. It’s senseless to follow the decisions of our forefathers, who have met their own demise. All in the fear of another one like Webo Azhi.

Beau asked, Where will you go, Ian? Into the wild territories beyond the Sol Mean Union? There the Dragon Lords may have been defeated, but they are not forgotten. They don’t distinguish between you and them. Here, Ian, we have forged a relationship. We serve the needs with the Sol Mean governments.

You can exist here, Beau, by doing the handywork for Sol Mean. There will be other Pathics. My child may be the first, but for sure he is not the last. You can continue to fear the birth of two. Still, other Pathics will appear again and again. The Enlil ordained that long ago.

Ian took a step away. He paused and looked over his shoulder at Beau. Beau seemed to be anticipating a harsh word. Beau broke the silence and said, Ian, the child will be safer here! Ian . . . I can’t say if any of the others will not come for you.

Ian’s response was "If they come, they will not return. So long, Beau. You think on it. This will be the last you will see of me."

Best life to you Ian.

Ginn’s eyelids opened. First, he saw the hyper cloud swirling around out of the cockpit window. Then he realized he had been in a dream. Why always that memory? Were we right to leave, Addison? Is that why this dream returns? Beau, you were right. Beau, it’s not the others. But someone has taken a liking to me. He pulled on his boots, then saw the ship about to drop out of its hyper cloud. He took charge of the steering and fingered his controls to jump out of the hyper cloud. In the dark of space, a naked eye would see a streaming light reflection as the Raven slowed back into normal space. In front of him was Kate’s world. Really, it was nothing more than a watering hole in an abandoned mining town. The Raven set down between two enormous boulders that faced the far end of the main street. Kate’s saloon was dead center of the ten-block-long street. The town was quiet, other than the normal rhythms of life.

It was just past high noon and Ian was in a long knee coat. The coat covered a pulse pistol on his belt as well as one strapped to his right leg. His pike was clipped behind his back on his belt. Halfway up the street ahead, Ian glimpsed a black silhouette. Then he saw the white flash from two engine thrusters. He made his way to Kate’s. At the front entrance was a pair of swinging doors. Ian steadied them with both hands as he peered over their top edge. He looked into the saloon and saw tables with a few patrons nursing mugs of not-ale. There, against the back wall, was a twenty-foot carved wooden bar. Above it on the wall a glass mirror stretched its length. At the bar’s far right corner was a fat bellied Schell. Given his belly size, if he stood, he could be as much as eleven feet tall. With the Shell was Kate, the saloon’s owner, a female human with shoulder-length auburn red hair, slim cheek lines, and hazel eyes. Of all things, Kate, you chose a Shell as your bouncer. You must realize that thing couldn’t move fast enough to catch anyone or anything.

To Ian Ginn’s right were four more tables, but only the one in the back corner was occupied by a group playing the eights-up dice card game. He saw only the backs of an IDiven and a redheaded woman he thought was from the world of Elissa. And his eyes couldn’t miss the sight of two humans in silver hover chairs, backed up against the wall, playing the game.

The one on the left had close cut dark hair and dragged on a yellow stogie with his right hand, and in his left fiddled with the handle of a mug of red hag mother ale over his cards. The other man had silvery hair that hung over his ears and a white soul patch on his lower lip. He too dragged on a stogie, pondering his own cards, while his right hand rolled three dice.

Ginn pushed through the swinging doors and walked to a support pole at the left end of the bar. He leaned his back into the bar with his elbows planted on its rail.

Kate brought him a mug of not-ale and put it by his left elbow. Here’s a not-ale, Ian.

Without looking at her in a low voice, Ian said, The object wasn’t there. He reached for the mug and their eyes met while he took a swallow.

It wasn’t there? Then what was there?

Just a little altercation.

An altercation, you say? With who? And how many? Kate asked.

Forget about it. It’s best for your sake if you don’t know. We will need to find a new broker who cannot be bought off, he said.

If that’s what you want. This was my fault. It was my lead. I believed the info was on the up and up. Someone has a beef with you. Have any ideas of who?

Ian turned into the bar; he handed back his empty mug. A beef with me. He had a laugh, then continued. That could cover a lot of territory. Then he noticed a human man at a single high table in the corner. With a short nod and wink to Kate he asked, That one, who is he?

He is Jacob Ash. He’s a runner and has a fast ship.

Runner or not, he was ex-military. See the green stripe in his pants? said Ian.

Don’t worry, Ian, he is pretty straight up for a runner, she said.

"You trust him then?

She nodded.

Still, Kate, we will need another broker. From outside your normal channels.

Kate nodded toward the four playing cards. Ian glanced at the table, then looked back to her. She pointed with her right index finger to the IDiven. Ginn looked skeptical. Are you sure that’s an IDiven? The back of his head is right, but what of his size? When have you ever seen a five and half foot IDiven?

She laughed. Most don’t even come to my belly button.

With a smile of his own, Ian took the mug that she had just put front of him and went to join the four. The dark-haired one in his hover chair motioned for Ian to have the seat between him and the IDiven on his right.

I am Dah, and this graying one on my left is Bond. The buy-in, my new friend, will be a hundred, after we finish with two more rolls.

Bond replied, Don’t listen to him. He’s just my brother. Our IDiven friend here is Zerbe, and our gifted lady with the dice is Jordan. And you, my new friend, are who?

With his fingers interlocked, Ian eyed both of them first. With his mind-space, he pushed out to encompass all at the table. Neither of the two gave him a deceptive emotion. Jordan’s emotions were fixated only on the game. Ian answered Bond, You can call me Ian. From an inside pocket, he took out some coins. He placed a stack of daric florin denar on the table. The red spotted gold coins brought quick attention. Ian knew then that Zerbe knew how unusual the coins were. There is more to you than an oversized IDiven. The emotion from the IDiven rolled into his mind-space for him to hear. Daric coins. Those look like original true daric. I need to win his buy-in. They are worth triple on the market. Ian clearly heard the IDiven in his mind-space, and he decided to take advantage of the alien’s curiosity with a suggestion to him. Where do you come from?

Zerbe said aloud, I am from Lato Gailos.

Isn’t that interesting. Lato Gailos, Malin, the medical factory. It has Sol Mean connection. And also, is in the Creek influence. Still nicely out of the way. I must check out Lato Gailos. Could be a place to lay low until I resolve this Tau matter.

That’s at the edge of nowhere, Dah said.

Zerbe answered, "Nowhere does has its advantages.

Once more Ian influenced Zerbe’s mind. What is your occupation?

He said, I have a ship repair yard, and I am a rare parts dealer.

Bond said, That’s a euphemism for the black market, my IDiven friend.

The IDiven Zerbe did not react to this black market comment. Bond was right about rare parts. They were a signal word for the black market trade. And the IDiven had one thought only: how and with who to move the coins. I better play this dice and eights-up game. A few rolls of the dice to see if I can find out more about Zerbe. He could come in handy.

Ian tossed out two more coins like the others. He sat and watched the cards and dice rolls in each round long enough to realize that a pattern had developed. Zerbe was winning over and over on rounds where Bond placed a double bet.

So, this under dealing is a payoff from this Bond. What kind of service did you do for him? Interesting. What kind of services could you possibly do for me, my new IDiven friend?

A sudden draft rustled the cards when the swinging saloon doors squeaked open. Ian had a clear view of two gunmen strolling in. The gunmen positioned themselves on either side of the doors. Ian felt overwhelming emotions from beyond the double doors. When they opened once more, there was another man. He was tall with a foot-long ponytail and dressed in green pants and shirt with a white vest coat. He carried himself boldly. Apprehension echoed against Ian’s mind-space from all over the room. The man sat down on a stool at a tall round table in the middle of the room.

Ian knew him. Jarod, so what brings you to Kate’s place?

Kate brought the man a drink of whisper-pale not-ale. Ian could tell she didn’t like him. And that wasn’t all. The IDiven’s emotions spoke of indecision and anxiety.

Tell me, IDiven, why this indecision? And what is your part in this? It’s time to pull in my Pathic mind-space close to me to better to listen and observe. Ian dropped out of the game to go stand near Kate at the bar. Then Zerbe got up and waddled over to Jarod.

Jarod took a swallow and said, You’re the IDiven Zerbe?

Yes. Zerbe pulled a small, thin pouch from his pocket and placed it on the table. Neither said a word, and Jarod nodded to the swinging doors. The IDiven stepped out of the saloon. Zerbe’s anxiety rolled into the bubble of Ian’s mind-space. He fears for his life. Zerbe stumbled back through the swinging doors into the saloon with two more pouches and took them to Dah and Bond’s table. Zerbe dropped the pouches in front of them and with haste backed out of the saloon. Ian watched Jarod, Dah, and Bond give another a cordial look. Jarod rose from his seat and strolled out, his two guards trailing at his heels.

Kate touched Ian’s left shoulder and asked, Ian, it isn’t a good move to buy into Jarod’s business. He is into more than racketeering and protection. Those two you played cards with—I believe they are weapons dealers.

Ian responded to her with a lie: It’s that IDiven Zerbe that I am interested in. I have an idea he could handle the selling of certain items I happen to have obtained. You did point him out to me.

She replied with look that said Are you kidding? That might have been a mistake on my part. I did know he was dealing with that Jarod. But after I screwed up on this last heist, I knew we would need a new broker.

"It’s